


Seikatsu

by TheShadowRose



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Gay, Heavy Angst, Incest, ItaSasu - Freeform, M/M, Shounen-ai, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Taboo, Uchiha Incest, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShadowRose/pseuds/TheShadowRose
Summary: Things never worked out as expected, but there has always been a solid through Sasuke's life. When that solid reveals to hold more to it's depth, he finds that he isn't the only one in need of someone; that someone being Itachi.In which Sasuke comes to terms with his brother, his life, and his fate.





	1. Oh-Dark-Hundred

**Author's Note:**

> • "Oh-Dark-Hundred": (n.) unspecified hours before the sun comes up.

**Itachi** has always been a kind soul. Almost impossibly so.  
  
People viewed him as a prodigy of the Uchiha, a brilliant diamond amongst the coal of their family name. Pure—oh so pure—and noble, holding himself high and with confidence. Shining so brightly against everyone else; so skilled, yet untouchable. Unfazed.  
  
This was Itachi Uchiha.  
  
As young as he was, he was held in high regards, treated the same as everyone else at Uchiha Enterprises. With all that respect also comes high expectations, which he never failed to reach. Fugaku, his father, was outstandingly proud, and showcased him to other companies constantly. He was to be the next successor in the Uchiha line.  
  
Itachi loathed it.  
  
He never wanted any of it. The praise, the respect, the paychecks, the fame. The responsibility. He never asked for it, and it all fell on cold shoulders. His family disgusted him, the way they handled things and labeled it as "business". Paperwork and underhanded meetings didn't interest him in the slightest.  
  
The only reason he didn't quit against all of his father's wishes was because of Sasuke. His precious younger brother, only being seven years old, would be handed the responsibility if he did. And he always makes certain that Sasuke remains untouched by their family's wrong ways.  
  
What he didn't know, is that perhaps he should have been grateful for how well everything was going. How well off they were—living in a large house with nice cars and the most ridiculously expensive clothing. A caring mother who shielded them from Fugaku's company and doings whenever she could, a warm meal when coming home from work every day.  
  
Yes, perhaps they should have been grateful. Itachi may have lost time to spend with his brother, he may have become distant due to the stress and overload of work. Yes, he may have hated what he was doing. But everything, then, was okay.  
  
And in an instant—in a single stroke of horrendously bad luck—it was all gone.  
  
The large house, the nice cars, the expensive clothing. Their caring mother, Mikoto, and the meals kept warm every evening. Their father, Fugaku, who pushed Itachi to be the best that he could be, for Sasuke.  
  
Gone.  
  
Itachi never cried once. Not when he was pulled out of the house by police officers with Sasuke held in his arms. Not when they were eventually shoved into the home of a surviving relative. Not when he had to tuck Sasuke into a foreign bed every night, or when he had to climb in after him because his baby brother was afraid of staying alone. Even when he had to work at much lower jobs than he did before, even when he had to give up his education to make sure Sasuke got his. Tears never fell from his eyes.  
  
Because his father had taught him to be the best that he can be. For Sasuke.  
  
_Even if it led him to his own death._


	2. Ragged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Ragged": (adj.) holding a rough, irregular, or uneven surface, edge, or outline.

**Sasuke** is never to know. He doesn't have to be informed of the way Itachi gets enough money to pay for everything after they moved out of Uncle Obito's house, how he got a hold of the paperwork to get their previous home back. He doesn't have to know where Itachi works at every night until morning, or what he'd been doing.  
  
The younger Uchiha is usually much too tired from both schoolwork and social interaction to ask anyway. Most of the time, he simply goes upstairs to do homework and falls asleep hours later.  
  
'And it's better off that way', Itachi thinks as he slings a duffel bag over his shoulder. The contents inside muffle a metallic clink. 'He would hate me for it.'  
  
Sasuke, in his room, hears a usual click of the door as Itachi leaves for work. It's 8 o'clock, making the young Uchiha briefly wonder—like every night—where his brother works so late into the evening, but it disappears as a yawn is forced from his lips.  
  
Dealing with fangirls at school drains his energy. Especially Sakura—the most persistent of them, as well as the captain of his fanclub. It's because of her that glares and cold shoulders don't keep people away anymore.  
  
It's quite annoying.  
  
With a small, inaudible sigh, Sasuke puts completed homework back into his backpack, zipping it up for tomorrow morning. Once that's done, with everything else organized for school without flaw, the young Uchiha brushes his teeth and washes his face in the bathroom. Then, promptly flops down onto the bed face first.  
  
If his brother had been home, Sasuke surely wouldn't have acted this way around him. These are moments he keeps to himself, outside of his usual Uchiha persona. And he plans to keep it this way for the sake of his pride.  
  
With an indignant huff, muffled by the mattress, he rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. It isn't smooth or flat, doesn't hold edges tolerable to a finger's touch. It's jagged and bumpy, holding miniature mountains on it's terrain that would send jagged shadows rather than graceful ones. It's the only ceiling throughout the house like this.  
  
Though, it goes with the rest of his untidy room. It isn't a hog's nest per say, simply much less pristine than Itachi's.  
  
His eyes shift over to his laptop, which is blinking a soft, white light every few seconds to signal it's merely asleep while resting on his desk. It's quite sad that a slab of man-made technology gets more sleep than he does. Sasuke stopped mentioning his nightmares to Itachi when he got into high school; stopped climbing into his bed with frightened eyes even before that. It's embarrassing.  
  
There's a buzz sounding off his bedside table. It shakes the wood with small quakes, begging to not be ignored. Sasuke ignores it anyway. Most likely, the caller is Naruto, freaking out over their algebra homework and how he hasn't learned any of it due to slacking off in class. And honestly, Sasuke isn't in the mood to enlighten the blond with help in his free time.  
  
If it was Itachi, who never calls or sends messages while he's away at work, he would have picked up. But that hasn't happened once. And Sasuke stopped hoping.  
  
With a drifting mind and countless thoughts, he finds himself falling into a much needed sleep. And, like the laptop on his desk, the only signs of life are soft, even breaths  resonating from his chest every few seconds.

 

* * *

 

As the time rolls to one o'clock A.M., the stilled house breaks out of silence. With a soft click, the door is shut and locked. A cloak is hung—inside out—with shoes left at the doormat. Soft footsteps, light and nearly unheard, lead straight upstairs, passing by the closed door of his brother.  
  
Itachi is exhausted. The same as each night after work, every movement is drowsy, yet equally graceful in the way that he always holds himself. A hairband keeping long, raven hair up is let loose, clothes are peeled away and replaced with fresh, softer ones. Teeth are brushed, as is hair, and a face is scrubbed clean from the rusty red covering it.  
  
With less grace than before, he collapses into bed and blacks out almost instantly. This is how it is each night. Itachi does his utmost best to convert the last of his energy to stealth, not wanting to wake his precious little brother up and disturb his sleep.  
  
What he doesn't know is that, in the other room, Sasuke lies awake with his eyes staring at the ceiling. Each ridge, every sharp turn in the miniature mountains above his head, transforms the shadows of moonlight into something different. The sound of a light flickering off in his brother's room coaxes his body right back off into a dark oblivion, with the knowledge that Itachi returned home alive once again.


	3. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Sunrise": (n.) the start of each day when the sun appears or full daylight arrives.

**Mornings** are never the same.  
  
Much like the Earth spinning on its axis, or the amount of times you blink throughout the span of a day, they are undetermined and unpredictable to both Uchihas.  
  
The first to wake is Itachi, five minutes before his alarm usually starts it's racket. That on its own is irritating, and he has to wait until the small mechanical device goes off before getting into the shower.  
  
Mornings are cold. Water, unused throughout the night, comes out freezing without a chance of warming up anytime soon. To make it worse, chills from February temperatures seem to sneak inside through the smallest crevices; forcing it's way through the tiniest of spaces and enveloping what it touches. Not even the overworking of each heater can fully overcome this unwelcomed guest.  
  
Despite the early setback in a good start to the day, Itachi doesn't complain. He steps into the shower, bare against the cold, and forces his muscles to relax and hold back shivering. That's another thing that Fugaku taught him. Complaining gets you nowhere.  
  
Everything in the morning is quick. There's no time for the luxury of warmth, no time for sluggish movements, or 35 minutes of scrubbing yourself raw. The steady stream of iciness jolts the older Uchiha awake, bursting his nerves in a way that drags out any sleep-like state. Delicate piano fingers rub sweet smelling shampoo into the raven locks, expertly and with experienced ease.  
  
The same goes for everything else, until he's stepping out dripping but clean. A towel, which had been sitting atop the heater, is wrapped around his body to provide warmth, and scare away a possible cold. The contrast of it feels nice.  
  
It comes as no surprise that the large house is decked from head to toe in ridiculously expensive furniture, decorated to be appealing to the eye. Nothing has been changed since they lost their parents. The bathroom is no different, holding only the most luxurious fluffy towels and a marble counter sink.  
  
Itachi never really cared for the neat look. Neither did he bother to refurbish a single thing, anyway.  
  
Without a warning—not a knock or holler of any sort—the door is opened. A slightly shorter figure pushes his way to the mirror, moving the other aside while reaching for a towel to place on the heater. They're situated besides the mirror, and aren't difficult to get to.  
  
Standing next to each other, the brothers look strikingly alike, yet completely different. Sasuke is just barely shorter, with shaggy black hair that tints blue in the sun, spiking up in the back naturally. Itachi's hair is much longer, reaching his mid-back, holding the brown hue of his father instead. Their eyes are exactly the same, a deep onyx that conceal everything. And, although Sasuke is younger, he holds more muscle, while Itachi is much leaner and holds more curves.  
  
"There's this thing called knocking, otouto," Itachi hums in his soft, even voice. Sasuke ignores him completely, turning the shower knob to a nice temperature—even though it will never get there. Itachi watches him for a moment before chuckling softly and stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him to ensure privacy.  
  
Even though Sasuke barged in while he was only wearing a towel.  
  
One would think that Sasuke really doesn't care about his brother. Those who don't really get to know them as more than the "Uchiha survivors" tend to believe that the younger of the two would prefer Itachi to go away. It's quite the opposite, actually. He's always had an undeniable admiration for his older brother, even as little children. Even when his father looked down on him and not Itachi.  
  
And although Sasuke has grown more stubborn, seemingly arrogant or unemotional wherever he goes, the fact that he loves his brother hasn't changed.  
  
When the younger Uchiha finishes up, earlier than usual, he hops downstairs—two steps at a time. Landing gracefully, like a cat, Sasuke pads towards the delicious scent of breakfast. He finds his brother at the stove, fixing them each a plate of Eggs Benedict.  
  
He cannot fathom how his brother learned to cook amongst everything else.  
  
"Thanks," he mumbles as the plates are placed down at their large, kitchen table. Sasuke doesn't care for redecorating anything either. A vase, meant to bring liveliness into the room, stands empty at the center. The last time it held blooming roses, their mother had cut it fresh from their now-dead garden.  
  
There are only two chairs. There used to be six; one for Fugaku, one for Mikoto, and two for the brothers. Extra seats were for when they had important guests from work, never friends from school. Now, the unnecessary and memory-inducing seats have been tucked away in the dark corners of their attic, hidden alongside everything else that Itachi made sure Sasuke wouldn't find.  
  
Each of them take a seat, marveling at the mouth-watering breakfast before digging in. After all, mornings are quick and unpredictable. There is no time to enjoy each other's presence. Sasuke is finished within minutes, placing his plate into the sink. Wordlessly and without a sound, he sprints upstairs once more to grab the backpack he had ready last night.  
  
Feeling like an idiot for leaving the one thing he needs for school upstairs, the younger Uchiha makes his journey back calmly. Each step feels heavier, and the closer he gets to their front door, the more he dreads having to face fangirls at school. The more emotion he feels towards this daily crisis, the more his expression slips into it's mask. And the more he appears as a true Uchiha.  
  
Oh, how Fugaku would have been proud.  
  
"You're going to be late, otouto," Itachi calls from the kitchen, where he is now washing their plates. Sasuke ignores this, slipping his shoes on and grabbing his keys.  
  
"Hn," the younger Uchiha sends his brother one last look. "You know I won't be... See you later."  
  
"Have a good day," Itachi replies, but Sasuke is already gone. The only evidence that he had been there are the plates that are now on a drying rack.  
  
Their mother never used the dishwasher, so now they don't either.  
  
Now the house is once again stilled into silence, and a smile is dropped. Itachi glances around him with worn, tired eyes, making his way over to the computer desk in the living room. A high tech computer, used only by him. It's slightly outdated, but because their father got it with the company's money—for work—it continues to function wonderfully.  
  
One would think that Itachi, prodigy of the Uchiha, would hold important files in the cabinets of said desk. And he does. Taxes, old company sheets from when Uchiha Interprises was at it's prime. Things like that.  
  
Nothing from current work is found there.  
  
All of that is well hidden—like the chairs in the attic—away from prying eyes, safe in a hidden compartment besides the desk in a bookshelf.  
  
Why would anyone expect anything less from Itachi Uchiha, who ranked so high at such a young age?  
  
Sasuke is never to know. _He doesn't have to._


	4. Concealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Concealed": (adj.) kept secret; hidden.

**A** bookshelf is full of books. 

Not to state the obvious, but that's what flashes through most people's minds when they see one in someone's home. A bookshelf is full of books, the desk has a computer on it, the coat hanger holds coats. Simple as that.

Itachi has never been simple. His mind was forced to grow faster than his body as he was developing skills of high school age while still learning to tie his shoes. Itachi's work is very crisp and clean, tidy; seemingly untouched, and as always, gracefully done. No one really knows for sure if it was by skill or pure luck that the Uchiha grew so detail attentive and intelligent. Sometimes, even Itachi himself is unsure.

To say that his mind goes through a million thoughts in the span of a few minutes is an understatement. 

Unlike any cliché movie—where a secret is hidden behind a bookshelf that can be accessed by pulling a book out, or when an object is hidden in between it’s covers—he makes sure that nobody will actually find anything unless he leaves it out for them to see. 

That is, _in the shelves themselves._

The oldest Uchiha takes his time to open each needed panel that hides away a slim space, only fitting paper inside. Since Sasuke is no longer around, brooding about in his serious and somewhat egotistical manner, he doesn't feel the rush of every morning even though its only been an hour since his brother left for school.

There are six panels in total; Itachi opens the first two at the bottom (the easiest ones to reach) and slides out several envelopes. The second holds pages, folded in three even parts. Bringing everything over to their oval coffee table, he lays them out for inspection.

The once pristine pages have gone yellow and wrinkled. They have obviously been handled many times before, rolled between delicate fingers over and over in both contemplation and frustration. The corners are folded—accidentally—from when they were slammed against the wood of a surface too roughly in the past. The fold of the envelope, meant to keep it's contents safe, is torn and ripped, long gone now. Because of that, one can see green inside.

With a calculator in hand, and his silky raven hair pulled back into its usual hairstyle, Itachi gets to work on taxes while the yellowed pages and torn envelope are left to the side for later.

 

* * *

 

A school is full of people, people form groups, groups become cliques; cliques scorn outcasts who don't fall victim to their tedious gossip and drama, drama consists of fangirls, with the occasional fanboy joining right in.

Sasuke Uchiha hates fangirls especially.

It isn't for just any reason, either. Just because he's an Uchiha doesn't mean he goes out of his way to hate specific groups of people.

Well, maybe he did that to Naruto and a few of Naruto's friends, but that's a different case.

Fangirls. _Never_. Leave. Him. Alone. There once used to be a period of time where his glares, practiced and perfected throughout the years, kept everyone away; just how he wanted it. But after some time, a wanderer found out that he's "all bark and no bite," and now suddenly the entire school is back to swarming behind his every step.

Sometimes, not even behind.

It's a great hindrance to his day, to say the least. After all, he shouldn't be green with envy at the lack of attention Shino Aburame, an odd kid in his biology class, gets.

His school day starts off in that class, with suppressed shivers of disgust toward Orochimaru-sensei's usual acts. He doesn't understand why the man pays him so much attention but he doesn't voice a complaint, simply because he's passing the class without so much as the lift of a finger.

Afterwards is English, which is the only class Sasuke manages to show signs of struggling in. He hates it more than he usually hates things. That language is absurd. Every rule ever given completely changes the moment a word is placed in a different spot, or a tense is switched. And not to mention the absolutely frustrating way you have to pronounce certain vowels.

Japanese students are fluent in Japanese. Americans and Brits are fluent in English, that's just how things work.

Nothing special happens afterwards such as extremely simple math equations through a boring lesson from Asuma-sensei. Somehow, he manages to look somewhat intrigued through eye contact and small nods calculated with correct timing.

Turns out that's a form of mental math as well. It's a win-win situation.

It isn't until lunch that Sasuke's ice cold demeanor is broken by none other than an energetic bundle of orange that he cannot get rid of.

"Hey, teme! Over here," the one voice there's no chance of escaping calls over, by a different table than usual. Sasuke raises an inquiring eyebrow, glancing to see that some new kids took their regular seats by the window. He doesn't pay them too much mind; they'll probably end up in his 'fanservice' as well, he can't take the chance of gracing them with his presence further.

"Hn," the raven greets, though its accompanied with an eye roll at the bright clothing the other is wearing. Naruto Uzumaki is quite some months younger, as well as shorter (though not by much anymore). He is the complete opposite of him; while Sasuke radiates a dark aura that acts as a shield to keep everyone away, Naruto is more of a magnet that brings everyone to talk with him; the blond is actually very charismatic.

And quite frankly, it's annoying.

"That seems to be the only word in your dictionary," the other huffs, tossing his hands up into the air in exasperation. Sasuke, being the ice prince he is, ignores this and pulls out a bento lunch Itachi gave to him earlier in the morning. The thought makes him smile on the inside, filling him with a warmth that is quickly shattered by Naruto's loud voice.

"Ahh! Nothing beats some nice, steaming ramen. Wait a sec, teme!" 

It's normal for the energetic teen to rush off like that, gripping a small cup of instant ramen between his paw-like hands. Where he gets steaming hot water for it, Sasuke hasn't found out yet. As if it matters. As if he cares. All he wants is for the day to be finished so that he can go home.

With a sigh, he takes a bite from the onigiri in his own hands, looking up to the air while drowning everyone out. All the fangirls, (squealing while stealing glances at him in their corner), and fanboys, (who are more discreet yet completely obvious in their daily stalking), disappear. The teachers, who have lunch as well, talk amongst themselves as they grab their food before leaving. They are probably discussing how troublesome some students are and how they want the day to be over as well.

Everything in his brain is muted, irrelevant to him. Even the taste of the food, so kindly made by his brother, is at the back of his mind. The brief moment that Naruto disappears to tend to his ramen is the only moment throughout the school day that he gets to himself.

And it feels _great_.

Even if it does last approximately two minutes.

"OI! Didn't you hear me?!' 

Obsidian eyes slowly open to stare up at a high ceiling, too smooth for his liking. It holds absolutely no edge to it, no unexpected twists and turns throughout it's landscape. Instead, the area is flat and leveled with the floor to exact measurements, much too far to reach (for the better). It's bland and unexciting, too ordinary. Too repetitive.

"Hn"

"Sheesh, you suck at social interaction," Naruto states bluntly, plopping down across from his rival once again. In front of him, warm and ready to eat, is freshly prepared instant ramen, "And you barely ate anything. C'mon, you've got nothing clinging to your bones!"

False, Sasuke mentally muses as he continues to eat his meal. 

He and Naruto look alike in structure, this makes them comparative in P.E. with Gai-sensei, who they so happen to have together in 7th period. Their rivalry shows best then.

But Sasuke doesn't care about that. He doesn't care about the way Naruto goes on and on about the best flavor of ramen he's tried, or unsettled scores between them. He doesn't care about how the new kids sitting at their lunch table bring everyone's attention to their spotlight instead. He doesn't care about how to properly pronounce an "r" sound in the English language!

Sasuke Uchiha is a loner. Loners want to be alone, even though he'd prefer to be alone with his brother above anything else.

Naruto is obvious, loud, and demanding attention. Sasuke is the opposite.

Sasuke is obscure; he has many, many things hidden behind those dark eyes of his, just like Itachi; he doesn't want to be found out. They are alike, yet so very different.

The only problem here is that Sasuke doesn't see past his brother's actions, what he does and what he did. And he certainly hasn't noticed Naruto, the glimmer of knowledge behind those clear blue eyes as he rambles on and on about new adventures with miso ramen. Those eyes are much deeper than they appear.

They hold same look as Itachi.


	5. Prowess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Prowess": (n.) bravery in battle.

**Sasuke** is irritated beyond belief by the end of the day.

Sakura and Ino, most annoying of them all, were all over him last period. It took all of the willpower, down to the very last ounce in his body, to not go against every morality in society and inflict some sort of violence against them.

Naruto offered that Sasuke come over to hang out, but as always, he declined. The young raven might lose the negative amounts of patience he has left if he ever accepted. 

The walk home is calming; there's nothing particular on his mind and the cool breeze of Spring allows any and all irritation to drift away. Each step back leaves him feeling lighter.

It doesn't take long to reach home. He doesn't even have to grab his keys—Itachi leaves it unlocked for him to enter with ease. Swinging the door shut behind him, Sasuke drops his things beside it and stretches strong pale arms above his head. Everything is silent, no fangirls squealing, no fanboys, no Narutos. 

"Welcome home, otouto."

It's only him and his brother, just how he likes it.

Sasuke hums in response, letting his arms drop to take a look at his him. The older Uchiha sends over a kind smile, headed towards his younger brother from the direction of the kitchen. In his hands, two cups of tea. 

"How has your day been?"

"Same as usual," the younger replies, taking a seat on the floor next to their coffee table; it's a habit to sit there instead, not that anyone minds. Itachi himself plops on the couch opposite of his brother, sliding a steaming cup over.

Green tea. With honey.

"Mm," Itachi murmurs, eyes glancing at Sasuke for only a moment before looking off to the side. They appear worn and tired, betraying thoughts of something else. But quickly enough, all that snaps away, and he's looking right at the other again, "I'm proud of you for handling those fangirls."

 

'Handling,' Sasuke chuckles mentally while taking a sip from the bittersweet tea. His taste buds have accustomed to this daily drink, his favorite part of the day. It's the only time he really gets to talk with Itachi, "You could say that."

"No need to be so modest," the long haired raven muses, drinking from his cup as well. The tea relaxes his body more, which had seemed tense. It always does at that time of the day, making Sasuke wonder what his brother does while he's gone. He always wonders.

As usual, the topic changes before he can even think of asking his brother anything.

"You don't have anything planned for Friday, do you?"

Another sip.

"No.." Sasuke sends him a suspicious look, "Why?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

Sasuke nearly pouts, "You know I hate surprises."

"You'll love this one. Besides, we haven't had time to do anything lately," he breathes, "but if you don't want to, I understand."

Silence.

"Of course I want to, it sounds nice." 

Itachi smiles, a genuine one without a hint of distance in his eyes, "Alright I'll pick you up after school on Friday."

"Sounds good to me." 

Their cups are pushed aside, empty and cold. They don't belong in this comfortable environment anymore. 

"If you gave me a hint, though, that'd be great."

"No _cheating_ , otouto," Itachi laughs lightly, taking ahold of the cups and standing up from his spot. He brings them over to the kitchen sink, where his delicate hands wash them automatically. "Don't you have school work to do?"

Sasuke sighs, of course his brother is worried over that. "I don't have that much," he answers, crawling over to the forgotten, abandoned backpack.

Pulling out a few sheets, the Uchiha fixes himself at their living room coffee table with a pencil in hand. When the older of the two returns, he simply places a small snack to the side before disappearing upstairs.

Itachi doesn't show up again until 7 o'clock, an hour before he leaves for work. By now Sasuke is eating dinner while watching tv, though it isn't very interesting (he doesn't like tv). Even so, his onyx eyes barely glance up from the large screen at the sound of his brother descending, "Leaving soon?"

"Yes," Itachi murmurs, placing his bag down besides the door and a cloak hung inside out on the coat hanger. "What are you watching?"

Sasuke's gaze finally shifts to his brother, clad in his usual and form-fitting attire. Uchihas always seem to dress like that...

It isn't as if he actually cares what's on the tv screen, or about the bland taste of his dinner (Itachi's food tastes better anyway, but he knows the man is busy, and won't become a nuisance to him just because he wants delicious food).

"Nothing that will interest you." 

Not to mention that teasing his brother is entertaining. He just barely manages to stop the twitch of a smile on his lips as Itachi raises an eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm."

Ignoring his younger brother's amused orbs, the older man joins him. He almost chuckles at the show choice, "An animal documentary?"

"Told you," is all the other huffs in response, finishing up his dinner and placing it off to the side. The two of them fall into a comforting silence, fixated on the flock of ravens floating about in the skies of America's mountains. Their smooth, dark feathers shine in the sun's rays, extended and keeping afloat in their proud manner. 

And suddenly, another raven comes in, rocketing down from up in the sky to crash right into the first. They entangle themselves in a clashed battle of breaks and talons, scraping and squawking by with a ferocity that shows the true nature of the wilderness. Then, all at once, the smaller bird rips itself away and evacuates from its previous situation, lowering itself to a lone tree branch. While the larger raven stays high in the sky where views of food are easier to find, where there is more control and flexibility; where strongest go to survive.

All too soon, Itachi has to leave. Sasuke lets out a typical "hn" and a quick goodbye, not seeming to mind much at all. It seems that everyone is hiding things from each other.

Itachi knows this far more than most. As he grabs his cloak and bag, slipping on his shoes, he steals a final glance to his brother for the rest of that night. Then he's off, as quiet as the wind lifting a raven's wings itself. With the house locked securely and the image of Sasuke safe inside it's walls, he continues to his car. Work isn't far, but he'd rather not walk due to how tired he is afterwards.

Everything is bathed in darkness, not even streetlights bother to reach far out at all. As Itachi steps out of the warmth of his car and makes his way up to a rowdy strip club, which flashes neon signs here and there, he pulls his cloak on. Blood red clouds adorn it's cloth, bold against the coloring. It hides him in the shadows with only a brief indication to his whereabouts.

It indicates for people not to get in his way.

The strip club is too loud. There are too many people, grinding against each other as money is tossed here and there. Not so secret exchanges are being made, and even a few are being led to the back rooms with swaying hips and a seductive smile. There are many performances going on, for all specialities at that. Males are teasing their way around their shorts, and females are tinkering with the clasps of their bras.

All in all, Itachi is rather repulsed by the entire ordeal.

But he isn't here for that, this is the mask of everything. He walks past the poles, past the performances, past the males and the females and the customers. A brick wall, blending in right with the rest, is at the far side of the entire place. Similar to the bookshelf panels back at home, Itachi finds a certain brick and pulls it open at the right place, then presses a small black button.

The wall opens, revealing someone else. A tall man, much taller than Itachi, holding himself sturdily and with authority. His shoulders are broad, cloaked with the same attire as the Uchiha. His jawline is sharp, pale in comparison, with bright orange hair spiked from one side to the other. Aside from the many piercings adorning his hands and face, one quality of his stands out the most.

Those are his piercing eyes, an unusual color of violet electrified against the flashing lights of the strip club behind them. And his voice is deep, so full of confidence that it radiates power; power to submit even the highest of Uchihas down to their knees.

_"Are you ready to begin?"_


	6. Unkempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Unkempt": (adj.) an untidy or disheveled appearance.

**Naruto** Uzumaki is anything but oblivious.

Every day he flashes the same toothy grin as he is overly excited by everything and everyone. He trips over himself, fumbles about with keys, and stumbles into one too many people throughout the span of a day.

Many believe he's an idiot who won't make it past high school. If only they knew he's gotten to a completely different level than the rest of the school.

He has an absolute fascination with pushing Sasuke's buttons. One minute the bastard is cold and distant, the next he's arguing with the blond over how ramen doesn't top tomatoes in favorite foods and never will for the rest of existence.

He also has a deep knowledge of human psychology, allowing him to push these buttons with the utmost ease—without letting others see his strategic intentions.

It isn't Naruto's habit to play mind games with everyone though it was his job before, but that was way before, child's play; that's a thing of the past. Currently, his habit is to watch over Itachi Uchiha's younger brother (because stalking is too harsh of a word).

**Tuesday.**

Like every other day, Naruto invites Sasuke over to hang out. Of course simple math equations aren't difficult even without Asuma-sensei's lessons, which makes it a perfect excuse to use. Everyone is hiding things from each other these days and some know it more than others.

"Ne, ne. Sasuke-teme, I really need help on this stuff. We have a test tomorrow, and if I fail this term, I'll be held back!" the blond whines, clutching at the Uchiha's sleeve like a lost child. Sasuke merely "hn's," easily removing himself from the hold.

"Seems like we won't be graduating the same year then," he shrugs carelessly, continuing on his walk home, turning left while the blond's home goes right. Naruto frowns slightly, gears turning round and round in his head. He likes this challenge.

"Are you actually that heartless, teme?" he sighs, choosing now to walk besides the raven. Sasuke doesn't even spare him a glance, or an answer. Naruto tries again, "C'mon, I helped you hide back when that fangirl mob overran the school. Just help me to not fail tomorrow, please? I'll leave you alone afterwards!" 

By this point Sasuke should be more annoyed than usual, Naruto thinks with an inward smirk. And he's right. The Uchiha slows to a stop, holding in a sigh of his own, "...Let's go."

The energetic blond grins in triumph, tugging Sasuke in the opposite direction, right, "It's over here!"

Seems like he hasn't gotten rusty after all this time.

 

* * *

 

The amount of empty ramen cups scattered across Naruto's bedroom floor is rather unappealing to the eye. 

Everything is untidy; the floor is a whirlwind mess and even the furniture wasn't saved from whatever storm passed it by. The foam cups of ramen, with faded red ink sprawled on the outside, are dull and damaged from, dare say, age. Chopsticks snapped in half from the weight of a foot are just as carelessly tossed about.

Accompanying those main attractions are garbages of daily life: paper towel rolls, paper cups, milk cartons. It makes Sasuke's nose wrinkle up in slight disgust for the fraction of a second before his composure is smoothed over once again. Naruto doesn't seem to take notice of this, simply shoving some pages off the couch and patting that single spot. 

"Make yourself at home, teme," he snickers, before trotting off into another room, presumably a kitchen. The Uchiha doesn't bother taking more of a look around, quite sure that he's only going to find more of the same. Being the ice prince that he is, Sasuke seats himself rigid, tense and not making himself at home in the slightest. His eyes are fixated on a crack on the wall, patient as ever.

He doesn't like Naruto's home.

Not because he's being judgemental, but because of the stench and because of the lack of an elegant touch in the posters scattered on a far wall. Because of the ramen cups littering every space. It isn't as judgemental as it seems; it only seems that way because of the way Uchihas live their daily lives: spotless and without delay. The opposite environment is bound to make anyone uneasy.

Blond hair races back into the room, wide blue eyes still excited. In his hands are two cups of tea. Unconsciously, Sasuke disagrees with the cups being used (orange-trimmed instead of the blue Itachi uses), but is beyond protesting as it's handed to him. Taking a calm sip—not green tea, but oolong—he braces his orbs to those bright ones and utters a single word, "Where."

Naruto blinks in faux confusion, looking perplexed. He really isnt. "What?"

"Where is it?" Cold, and straight to the point. "You needed help in math."

"Oh, right! I'll grab that," Naruto yelps, lunging at his schoolbag to no avail, as he miserably fails and instead manages to send every single object in the damn thing sprawling to the collection on his living room floor. With a sigh, Sasuke places the orange teacup down, typing his brother a quick text to say that he'll be home late, before standing up from his spot.

"Nevermind that. Let's get on with it."

 

* * *

 

Sasuke isn't home until later. Much later. When he pulls up, being driven in Naruto's Ford pickup truck, he knows that he fell asleep a few times on the way.

The Uchiha unwillingly thanks Naruto for the ride, hopping out and slamming the door shut. He turns on his heels swiftly and with grace, heading right for the door. He's almost surprised that it's locked, unlike how it would usually be after school. He finds no trouble with this, fishing his keys out—that have a sailor moon lanyard—to let himself in.

Giving one last 'thanks-for-bringing-me-home-I'm-safe-you-can-leave' wave to Naruto, he steps inside with the door closed behind him. Everything is quiet, and although Itachi is a quiet person, even he doesn't have the house feeling this abandoned. Glancing down at his phone, he sees the reason why. It's way past 8 o'clock: his brother already left for work.

From here, things can only take a turn for the best or for the worst. It depends on Sasuke's unconscious choice of action. Go upstairs, or stay down here? 

If he had chosen the first choice, things would have definitely gone much smoother.

_But this isn't how things play out._

Casually, a light is turned on, lifting the shadows from their comfortable spots and ushering them aside. The sight isn't actually expected, and it seems almost dead without Itachi's footprints left all over.

There is no cloak on the coat hanger. It lays there, unused, seeming almost dejected. There is no bag besides the door, waiting for Itachi's 8 o'clock shift. There is no Uchiha sitting on the couch watching animal documentaries. There is only the sound of overworking heaters, afraid to speak up in volume and keeping their noise to a minimum.

Then, why is there a cup sitting stop the coffee table?

His brother is too kind, Sasuke finally decides with a chuckle, making his way over to inspect it. A beautiful teacup, with a brilliant blue trim and delicate handle. Inside, green tea, cold and long awaiting his arrival.

Much too kind.

With the smallest of smiles, the youngest Uchiha reaches for it. His pale fingers wrap around the handle gently, feeling it's cool surface against the pads of his skin. It feels somewhat wrong and uncomfortable, since whenever he's given this cup, it's warmed up from his brother's touch.

Before the object is lifted, before even a singular muscle is twitched, Sasuke catches something out of the corner of his eye. The bookshelf. It stands alone in a proud glory, but even such things cannot win a battle against an Uchiha's eyes. Without fail, Sasuke notices what grabbed his attention. The bookshelf appears to be damaged.

Curious, Sasuke goes over to inspect the sturdy wood, bringing the cup along with him. He doesn't expect to find hidden compartments alongside each panel, which he would have never noticed in his lifetime if it weren't for this simple mistake. He wouldn't have ever known how Itachi got the money to pay for everything after they moved back in all those years ago, how he got the house into custody, where he works, and what he does every night.

His grip on the worn pages tighten, and one even rips at a more fragile spot than the others. Then, they fall, and Sasuke steps back as if poisoned, as if whip lashed.

Itachi _lied_.

And as he stands there, bathing in this newfound and baffling knowledge, the clock strikes to 1 o'clock am.

The door opens, tired onyx orbs glancing around in disbelief before settling on his blood sibling. Then to the floor in paper disarray, then the bookshelf. And everything clicks.

"Otouto, I can expl--"

Sasuke whips around, facing his brother with absolute rage. He wants to punch something—not Itachi, but something.

"Yes, sit down, Itachi. I'd _love_ to hear an explanation for this shit," he points to the messy floor, eyes glinting. The smile is long gone, and his tea in the opposite hand is nearly tipped to spill without care. "Please tell me why a _prodigy of the Uchiha Clan_ , whom our father treasured so deeply, decided to join the Akatsuki.

**Enlighten me."**


	7. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Contrast": (v.) to differ strikingly.

**Itachi** is left speechless.

His brother has never spoken to him like this before. There were times in the past where Sasuke would come home angsty, wreaking havoc around the house like any other teenager his age. But he has never held this tone of voice and never has it been directed toward him in this way.

Although the perfected mask holds strong, his mouth opens and closes several times without speech. This only seems to anger the younger raven further, so Itachi finally gathers his wits, lets out a breath, and begins, "Sasuke I never meant to lie to you. The last thing I ever wanted was-"

Once again, he's cut off coldly without consideration. Why should he care of how rude he's being? It's nothing compared to what Itachi has been keeping from him, Sasuke thinks to himself beforehand. 

"Did you know that every night, after you disappear, I wonder where you go? I wonder, where does Itachi _Uchiha_ go for a job every single night?" He slams the blue-trimmed cup down onto a shelf, making the wood shake underneath his touch and the ceramic material nearly shatter. "But I never asked, never _dared_ to tread into my older brother's business. I looked up to you and only you, Itachi. I put my faith in you that everything was going fine."

Itachi waits another moment after that. He bites back the slight quivering in his voice, hiding away all the weakness wishing to shine forth. Just like his father taught him. 

He tries again, "...The last thing I ever wanted was for you to get involved with the Akatsuki. It's too dangerous. Everything _is_ fine. Everything's going fine."

"It's _not_ fine, Itachi!" Sasuke exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air, "It isn't fine, because you're in the Akatsuki. It's dangerous, you said so yourself. How could you be so stupid to join? Why?!"

"It's too dangerous to tell you, Sasuke."

The two seem to glare at each other from where they're standing, not giving way in the slightest. They have never sent each other their Uchiha glare in their lives. 

Itachi's is sharp and tears right through the soul, dissecting it piece by piece while poisoning any nervous system frozen. It's a fire, burning and crackling with raw power to the point where everything seems to melt and give up. What makes him the prodigy in this field of Uchiha work is how uncaring and cold his eyes are, contradicting absolutely everything into a sizzling perfection.

Sasuke's is strikingly alike, yet completely different.

Although both hold the same, dark orbs hiding away secrets, Sasuke's are more wild than sharp. They hold an uncontrollable anger and sadness behind them, radiating his locked away emotions so clearly. They slice right through anyone, leaving them a shivering and frightened mess. Even if his glare doesn't hold the same qualities as his brother's, it isn't that surprising.

After all, Mikoto is the one who primarily raised Sasuke, while Fugaku shaped Itachi at his own will.

"I don't care if it's dangerous," the younger raven spits out at last, fist clenching tightly, "I don't care about that and you know it. You know that you should have told me about what's going on. You're my brother and I deserve to know."

"Perhaps you deserve to know, but you shouldn't. I am not going to risk putting you in danger because of this."

"God damn it Itachi, would you quit treating me like a child? I'm old enough to take care of myself!"

"I know that," Itachi laughs without humor, though its a mere chuckle at this point. His glare has softened, and now he simply seems tired, "You are very capable of taking care of yourself, I know it very well. But it's because you're my brother that I've kept this from you."

Sasuke seems stumped. Every fiber in his body is telling him to drop it, to go along with his older brother's wishes and carry on with life like before he found anything. He wishes against every science invented that he had gone straight upstairs upon arriving home, that he didn't notice the cup of tea left specifically for him, that he didn't find any of the papers.

It's because of these wishes that a new feeling rises from deep within his mind. Why should Sasuke sit back and let his brother carry on with the Akatsuki? He may not know much about it other than the fact that its been in the headlines on the news since forever.

"Then why? I already found the papers, all these transactions. All the money. Just tell me what's going on, Itachi," the younger sighs with frustration, pulling a hand through his hair. It seems as if he's at the end of his patience, "I'm not going to drop this, until you talk."

Itachi, at this point, seems internally torn. There isn't anything holding him back other than himself, and he wants it to stay that way. Why would he wish for harm against his brother? The Akatsuki could kill him for knowing. Knowledge is dangerous, it's a liability that weighs too much sometimes. And he, as an older brother, wants to hold this weight on his own without allowing the risk to anyone else.

"...It's late, and you have school tomorrow."

Moments of tense, untouched silence goes by. One minute, two, then two and three quarters go by before Sasuke's eyes practically burst into a fiery inferno of crimson. He takes a step back, swerving his body to face in the opposite direction whilst growling underneath his breath.

He just doesn't get it. Why won't Itachi tell him? "I still don't fucking get it," he voices aloud, beyond pissed off. A rare time where the youngest Uchiha loses his mask without care. "Just, don't talk to me."

Itachi reaches out, "Otouto-"

"I'm going to look for a job somewhere, and I don't care if you don't want me to. Once I'm back I might hit you, so try to avoid me."

With weary and sleep deprived eyes, Itachi watches his younger, most precious brother stomp over to the couch and grab his coat, hastily shoving it on. It's all going wrong. This isn't how it was supposed to go.

"Oto-- Sasuke, it's still much too early. You may put as much blame on me as you want, but I... I do think you deserve an explanation, I really do. And I'll give you one, if you promise not to walk out on me right now," Itachi reasons, fearing that something would happen to the other. 

That after all these years of protecting him, something would go terribly wrong. These thoughts haunt him every single day, every minute, every second. And even as he hears Sasuke pause, even as Itachi turns to sit on the wooden stairs leading up to the second floor, he still holds these fears.

Sasuke decides to follow his brother and stand at ground level, arms crossed with a scowl deep in his features, "Then continue, and finish quickly."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Reciting every event since he joined the Akatsuki would take ages, but Itachi keeps this small amusement to himself. Instead, he closes his eyes with an exhale to calm his nerves, nerves that were set off by the one person he truly cares about.

"After the incident of our family everything from the Uchiha fell to us. Yes, there was wealth, but there were also debts," Itachi briefly opens his eyes and meets Sasuke's gaze before looking up to the ceiling above him. It's too dark to see, there are too many shadows casting their magic across it's surface, and it is too high up above the stairs to set free. It's soothing compared to Sasuke's icy and accusing looks.

"There was too much to pay off, and our parents left nothing for us, not even the house. They didn't expect to die so young.

"The Akatsuki is an organization of some sorts. Call us Robin Hood if you'd like, though the lengths we go to acquire the most expensive items don't always get handed to the poor. In exchange for getting whatever a client wants, the organization gets paid a lot. And by a lot, I mean it's enough to split by ten people and still come home with heavy pockets.

"Even this way, it would take me years to pay off the only gift our parents left us, not to mention the bills for this house, and the strings I had others pull for us to even be here. Otherwise, we'd still be camping out at Uncle Obito's house.

"This way, I can at least make sure we don't get separated, and it means you don't have to be dragged into all of it with me. You don't have to work yourself senseless, and you can go on with your studies like a regular teenager. My options were limited, and the positives seemed worth it... So I joined."

Cranks and whirrs are all that resonate through the walls now, the heaters filling pregnant stillness with gears turning.

"I," another pause, gears turning in his head as well, "I still could have helped you Itachi. You could have asked and I would have worked to pay it off with you. Everyone my age has a job at this point, so what would be the difference?" 

"The difference," Itachi sighs, chancing a look to his brother, "is that you'd uphold the responsibilities that you shouldn't have to uphold." 

The air around both brothers is still buzzing, electrifying and very much alive. But Sasuke is no longer bottled up in a fit of rage. "I don't care about that, _you_ shouldn't have to work on your own to pay what _our_ family did. I can work and give the money for you to add to the pay. It's fine, Itachi... But you need to get out of that stupid organization and get a real job," he catches those onyx eyes once again, "please."

Itachi looks hesitant, looking as if he wants to dodge that plead. "I can't, Sasuke," he whispers softly, gripping the fabric of his pants with a strength that leaves the rest of his body yet further fatigued, "and I'm sorry for not telling you, though I wish you'd be safer still without knowing." 

"You're avoiding it, Itachi," Sasuke points out, not wanting to be left out on anything anymore. He wants to be clear on what's happening. "If you leave the Akatsuki, we can live normally. I barely see you anymore, it's not worth it. It's not worth all the damage." 

"No, it's not," the older agrees with a dry laugh adorned with yet another smile. Tired and slightly forced, but pleasant nonetheless. Quite on contrary to their current situation.

"Then why do you say you can't? It isn't illegal to quit a job."

"Yes, but the Akatsuki aren't legal to begin with."

Sasuke scoffs, that still sounds like a load of bullshit to him. The Akatsuki sound full of themselves. "Hn. What're they gonna do if you quit, kill you?"

He expects more dry laughter and the shake of a head, a dismissive wave of the hand to ensure his joking is way off the charts from the truth. None of this happens. His half-hearted joke is met with more silence, and disturbingly, Itachi's dead-panned stare. Sasuke gulps down a trembling voice,

"Do they?"

As an answer, he receives a strained smile, apologetic and fruitless.


	8. Evocative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Evocative": (adj.) bringing strong images, memories, or feelings to play.

**"You're** kidding," Sasuke manages to say, grimacing. 

Itachi doesn't confirm nor deny anything, taking ahold of the stair railing to help him to his feet. Standing on the third step he appears taller than he really is, acting as a barrier between the difficulties of the present and much needed rest for the future.

"You have school tomorrow. Please rest, it's nearly two in the morning," the man says softly despite the obvious signs of his exhaustion. This is something that irritates Sasuke down to the core. Smiling, graceful Itachi, too kind, too pure for this world, is selfless beyond belief. He never thinks of himself first, it's always his precious younger brother; it's _always_ Sasuke.

Without warning the Uchiha goes up two steps to stand only a tad bit shorter than Itachi, the top of his head reaching Itachi's eyes. Then he smacks him in the shoulder, the contact sending a jolt through him.

"You fucking idiot, you're the one that should go to sleep. Trust me, I've had enough for now, I have more time to sleep through free periods at school," he sighs, looking up into similar orbs with a hint of both exasperation and warmth, "Now you can go to sleep. I can make us breakfast when you wake up." 

The stubbornness of a Uchiha is far greater than any human being. It's practically a known fact, as time and time again the bloodline has shown similar traits beyond the Edo Era. "Uchiha" is an old name, a powerful name. 

And Sasuke is an extraordinary example of such tact.

After some quick, muddled thinking, the older man's body makes a choice on its own, "Hn... As long as you won't be too tired later on. It's on you," he yawns out, onyx orbs betraying sleepiness. 

Mind and body half asleep, his mind drifts away in it's own little world. So much so that he even has a dream, standing right there on the third step of their staircase.

Sasuke running around in their backyard, the sky darkened with a fresh coat of navy paint. The sky is cloudy, blocking out the moon and stars and barricading them from the unknown. A five year old Sasuke doesn't seem to mind nor care in the slightest, prancing and darting around like there's no tomorrow.

At one point, he becomes bored. Hands that were twisting and grasping at the air drop, and tiny legs that were aimlessly hopping about turn direction to the porch, walking right up to his elder brother.

"Nii-san, can we watch the stars?" is questioned innocently, oblivious to that impossibility. 

"Sorry, Sasuke," Itachi responds automatically, reaching out with two fingers to poke his brother's forehead, "Maybe next time?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

And as Itachi falls deeper into his dream, body on autopilot as he climbs the last of the steps and disappears into his room, Sasuke is left on the second step with a very confused expression. He can feel his cheeks heating up and his hand reaches up to rub at his forehead with nostalgia.

_Itachi hasn't done that since their parents passed away._

With his mind on overload, Sasuke goes back down and hurls himself onto the couch. He feels like a child again, vulnerable. Admiring his brother with wishful thinking—an admiration that had been subdued with age.

The ceiling is too smooth, Sasuke concludes while wearily eyeing the untouched dimension above him. It doesn't sit well in his mind, so he buries his face in the palms of his hands and rolls over on his side to hide away from it's mockery. A floor above him, Itachi dreams of cloudy nights.

 

* * *

 

Uchihas _never_ use alarm clocks.

There isn't a need for them. They have them situated on the bedside table like a pest that doesn't know when to stop, but they don't allow such lowly devices to awaken them.

Itachi wakes up five minutes before his alarm, a regular routine. No matter how tired he is, or how little sleep he's gotten, he never lets that alarm get the best of him. He gets ready in a matter of minutes, allowing the cold spring atmosphere to heighten every sense.

A quick shower, the untangling of hair, and fresh clothing. For a minute the man wonders where his brother is and why he hasn't barged into the bathroom like usual. Then he remembers last night, and Itachi goes back to drying his hair.

The sight that awaits him downstairs...

...is exactly what he expected.

His younger brother is curled up on the couch, sleeping reality away with slow, even breathing. Feeling almost guilty, Itachi pushes inky strands of hair away from those closed eyes before shaking his shoulder. "I thought you didn't need sleep?" he murmurs with amusement, watching the younger teen stir and frown as his vision soaks up sunlight.

"Shut up," he groans, pushing Itachi's hand away as he stands up, "I didn't think I'd pass out. Are you hungry?"

"Sure," the older chooses to say, taking a step back to ensure his brother doesn't become annoyed, like how he can become in the morning, "want me to help?"

"No," Sasuke decides, a determined shine coming across his features, "I promised breakfast. Can you make sure everything's in my bag?" Of course everything is in there, he thinks, mentally slapping himself but not doing anything as Itachi nods and pads away. 

He never opened his bag after getting home the other day.

Instead of dwelling over the smallest of details that will make him want to crawl under a rock later, Sasuke moves on and gets to work. With a bottom lip bit in concentration, and the oven omitting good amounts of heat, a sharpened scent of eggs and ham spreads aimlessly through the air.

So focused on perfecting his omelette, the younger raven doesn't notice he has an audience until delicate fingers wrap themselves around his wrist. The touch itself nearly brings him to whip up the pan in self defense. 

"Seems like I'll have to teach you how to cook again," Itachi tsks as he moves their hands further down the handle so that there's a decreased risk of burns. With an expert switness, the older man guides his brother along to keep the eggs from over cooking and remain with texture.

At this point, Sasuke isn't sure what's burning more: the stove or his face. It feels as if it's on fire and he can guarantee that if Itachi were any closer they'd break the laws of physics and matter.

"I know how to cook," he mumbles, not daring to turn his head in any direction out of fear that his brother will notice the new shade of red on his pale complexion. It's a partial lie. Itachi hums without belief, but doesn't protest as Sasuke snatches his wrist back and goes on with a stiff posture.

And suddenly, he wishes he hadn't slept.

Everything is plated in record time, still steaming and fresh with bursts of flavor. They sit at their individual chairs—the only true survivors at the table—and dig in without further comment. For once, neither of them bother to look up at the empty glass vase between them, or the ample amount of space at either sides.

Sasuke finishes first. He wipes away at his lips with a napkin before tossing it out and leaving his plate in the sink. Their usual morning rush is beginning to naturally seep into his body, a quickness that is done without much thought in the slightest; so natural that everything is placed on autopilot.

Itachi however remains wandering through his own little world; no rush, no scrambling to gather items into a backpack, no hurried steps up and down the stairs. He isn't even halfway through the omelette when Sasuke finally grabs his keys off the coffee table, stuffing them a front pocket for later.

There isn't enough time to snap him out of it. Sasuke needs to leave or else he'd be late for first period and Naruto would never let that subject drop. He expects no words as his backpack is hauled up and his body is rushing to the door, only expecting silence and the the hustle and bustle of school.

"Have a good day, otouto."

The youngest Uchiha nearly trips on his way out upon hearing his brother's calming voice. Instantly, his mind relaxes, because he knows that he won't actually be late to class. It's just an overreaction.

"Thanks, see ya," he responds before taking off, locking the door behind him. The sky is already a bright blue color, warm with sunlight and lively with sounds. Birds are chirping, cars pass by bicycles, and even a few dogs bark nearby. The sidewalk's white pavement is filled with cracks, something that his mother wished were fixed a while back because it doesn't look nice in front of the house.

The city never fixes sidewalks, only filling in cracks with more and more tar to create an uneven mess. The bumpy ground doesn't flow, doesn't merge together to create a unique terrain of uncharted territory.

Sasuke can see why his mother disliked it.

As he makes it closer to the school, listening to the barks of dogs get further away, and how the birds cease their melody when a passing biker sends them into the air with fright, the youngest Uchiha notices one thing. Something that hasn't happened for a very long time and something he hadn't realized he missed.

Today, he spent time with his brother without something else on his mind, without being distracted by school or anything else. The Akatsuki didn't even stay in his mind despite how angry it still makes him.

With a small exhale, Sasuke shifts the straps on his backpack to a more comfortable position and turns to the last block so that Konoha High is visible.

He'd like to spend more time with his brother like that.


	9. Flesh and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Flesh and Blood": (n.) used to emphasize that a person is a physical, living being with human emotions or frailties; family of the same bloodline.

_**What** has he done to make God upset,_ Sasuke thinks whilst having his ear talked off by a certain blond.

Paying attention to every single word isn't worthwhile by now, not that it's the first time he's ever come to that conclusion. Usually each rant is about a new flavor of ramen, or a secret to making the most delicious instant noodles. This time it's worse, much worse.

"—and her eyes are the color of emeralds, have you seen? Sakura-chan is so pretty; I think she looks better with her new hairstyle! What do you think?" Sasuke doesn't even bother trying to respond. "She's amazing, y'know? She's so strong, I've seen her punch Kiba into a new dimension! Poor guy didn't even see it coming! But stay away from her, yeah? She might be the leader to your fan club but that doesn't give you any rights!"

"Believe me," the raven deadpans, walking on ahead without the slightest expression, "I don't plan on going a foot closer to Sakura."

"No need to be rude either, teme," Naruto teases, nudging the teen with a slight grin on  his face, "You have to admit that she's pretty, ne?"

Sasuke glares at him, "No."

Another laugh. It doesn't seem to faze the blond. "Right of course, nothing can beat your brother and his hair."

Eyebrows are raised in confusion then lowered in suspicion, "How do you know I have a brother? Or his hair? I never talk to you about him." 

Naruto merely smiles, twirling his keychain around an index finger; it has an orange fox charm, dangling with ruby red eyes. "It isn't that great of a secret by now, everyone knows things about what happened. It was on the news."

Oh, _right,_ the Uchiha thinks bitterly, deciding now to ignore him. He says unintelligent things anyway so nothing will be missed. Naruto, once again, doesn't seem in the least bit bothered. Instead of waiting for a response, he skips around from topic to topic nonstop. 

Sasuke wonders how Naruto manages to hold a 20 minute conversation throughout a 10 minute walk to main street. 

The Uzumaki begs his best friend and rival to come help him study again but to no avail. He even attempts to keep him longer by talking about now working at the coffe shop, receiving no reaction. The mood for such a casual thing is nonexistant and all Sasuke really wants to do is go home and drink tea. He pries the blond off of him multiple times before turning a narrow left at an intersection, leaving Naruto to walk on his own.

Walks home are usually peaceful and relaxing after shaking him off, but it all goes down the drain because peace means more time to think. And more time to over think. Which is something Sasuke doesn't usually do, making it more of an unusual situation.

He remembers the tingles across his skin at Itachi's touch, the warmth he seems to draw away from cells touching cells simply from his fingertips. The way Itachi smiles at him, always genuine (if not a bit distracted). His eyes—so easy yet so complicated to read—onyx with a radiance of kindness that he developed over age. Even the deep lines beneath his eyes, bags of fatigue and sleepless nights, show off who Itachi is. They are a part of him. He is beauty, a graceful Uchiha who has gone against everything a stereotypical Uchiha used to be. A creation of utter, disgusting, _perfection_.

He's his older brother, his nii-san.

And that's the exact reason why the twisting-turning feeling at the pit of Sasuke's stomach bothers him to no end. Itachi is supposed to be his brother by blood, by flesh and bones and DNA. Nothing more.

... The tingling from his touch is _wrong_.

 

* * *

 

Annoyance is an emotion easily caught by the smallest of situations.

There isn't a warm greeting when he gets home, irking the youngest Uchiha until he finds the reason why. His brother, so kind yet harboring so many secrets, is laid down on the couch on his side, curled up with his hair in array and a not-so-peaceful expression straining his beautiful face. It seems that even the house has stilled and quieted to let him rest and if it wasn't for the fact that the room holds a nice warmth from the heaters, he would have thought they were turned off.

As he nears, Sasuke notices the way the muscles in his body are tensed, hands fisted in the material of the couch with shaking fingers.

There are moments where he wishes he could see into his brother's mind; this is one of them.

Despite the way Itachi's unconscious acts betray an unpleasant dream—perhaps even a nightmare—Sasuke will feel bad if he wakes him up. The man is almost always busy, disappearing every night to the Akatsuki to do... Whatever the hell they make him do. And every night, he always hears him go straight to bed, much too exhausted to even pause and shower.

With the lightest of footsteps against the wooden floor, he makes his way over to a closet situated underneath the stairway and fishes out a blanket. The blanket is extremely soft and warm, yet not thick enough to become unbearably suffocating. Using the utmost care, Sasuke drapes said blanket over his brother's form and watches with satisfaction as it brings them both a small smile.

Once done with that, Sasuke sits on the ground and picks up the blue-trimmed cup, nestling it between his palms with familiarity. Even though the object is cold, as is the tea itself, it gives him a happy feeling.

Though he ignores the half-finished Akatsuki contracts pushed off to the side of the coffee table, not wanting them to spoil his good mood.

His drink is gone within minutes, drowned down effortlessly and without complaint. Even cold, Itachi's tea is his favorite. As he goes to stand and place the cup away, the house seems to whirr back to life and Itachi's fingers stop shaking.

"Ah... Welcome home, otouto," the eldest Uchiha greets, voice still laced with a sleepy tone. He slowly sits up on the couch and examines the blanket engulfing him, bringing it closer.

"Yeah," Sasuke mumbles, looking down into the empty porcelain. Suddenly, every internal struggle from earlier hits him like a truck. In an attempt to hide it, he coughs, "Thanks. Sleep well?"

"I suppose," the man chooses to reply, but they both know otherwise. His sleep had been tainted with nightmares, and Sasuke wouldn't be surprised if it happened often without his knowledge. "How was the interview?"

"It was fine," Sasuke responds, forcing himself not to wince at the memory. He'd rather not relive the events that unfolded there, and instead looks off to the side, "Naruto went with me, we both got hired on the spot."

"I'm glad to know you two are still close friends, I'm not surprised they hired you right away," the elder smiles, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch and planting his feet to the ground. Every movement, no matter how simple, seems much more graceful than humanly possible when it comes to Itachi. With a small exhale, he stands, bringing the blanket's warmth with him, "By the way, thanks for the blanket."

Between them there is a settled silence, accepted without question. Itachi begins to fold the soft fabric with talented piano fingers, working quickly and efficiently before placing it right back into the closet. Sasuke goes to pick up both their cups to clean up, just getting ahold of the second handle when a question is dropped and shatters their wonderful atmosphere.

Of course he shouldn't have expected such casual and regular talk after his outburst the night before.

"Otouto.. Does being in the Akatsuki repulse you so much that you can't stand to look at me..?"

Sasuke, in a multitude of shock, drops both cups and doesn't take notice as they clatter to the ground, splashing the tips of his toes with cold liquid. He curses aloud as the action causes him to smack his hand against the coffee table, sending pain jolting up his arm. "W-What!" the Uchiha stutters out, cheeks heating up in a rosy red, "No! No... It's not that."

In an attempt to divert away from the growingly tense conversation, the youngest Uchiha begins to pick up the cup he dropped. His fingers fumble with the ceramic material, as if lost and frazzled. The long haired man goes to stand in front of him, arms at his side and an uncertain tilt to his frown, "Then what?"

Unearthly silence. It's beginning to unnerve and annoy Itachi, disliking the long stretches not because of the lack of noise but because of the questions left unanswered. It chews away at his mind and traps his soul in a breathless vice grip of sudden terror. What if his brother truly thinks of him differently? Things may never be the same again, they may never share more moments together. 

Sasuke may never trust him.

Something Itachi wishes against so badly that it almost physically hurts.

Moving upon instinct, he reaches a hand out and places it on Sasuke's arm to gather his attention. Sasuke practically throws himself in the opposite direction, pulling himself away from his brother's touch and nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. He drops the empty cup again in order to grab ahold of the coffee table to sturdy himself against Earth's gravity, looking down sheepishly. "I-It's nothing." 

With an air of defeat, the man's hand drops back to his side, "It's not nothing. The way you reacted clearly states that. Even now you can't look at me," Itachi's expression softens, a bit saddened, "You can tell me anything, Sasuke."

"I don't want to talk about it!" he finally yells childishly, both hating himself for acting so immature but also fed up from not wanting to talk to his brother about this right now—or ever. "I'm going upstairs, goodnight."

Itachi betrays a hurt expression, something that hasn't happened almost ever. Why is Sasuke being like this? Why does it feel like he's beginning to avoid him? He doesn't understand. "If... You oppose so strongly... But I wish you would tell me, I don't want us to become distant," the man trails off quietly, turning to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess.

Guilt drips to the pit of Sasuke's stomach, overriding any instinct to flee the situation. Biting the inside of his cheek, the Uchiha returns to help clean up the cold puddle of tea, the both of them working in silence. This time, the house doesn't pay mind to them, and continues it's whirring and clinks and clanks through the walls and ceiling, almost as if begging for the two not to argue.

Cleaning doesn't take very long, and Sasuke is back on his feet in no time, tossing the soiled paper towels away without care. When he returns Itachi is just sitting next to the coffee table holding the (luckily) unbroken tea cup in his hands.

"I'm really sorry, I don't want us to be distant either but it's the only thing holding me through," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

"It's... fine, otouto."

Briefly, Sasuke wonders if Itachi will ever get angry and snap at him but he doubts that he'll see that side of him, even after death. As he ponders over this, the other gets up and places the blue-trimmed cup down, moving forwards with a cat-like step. And suddenly, they're wrapped up in warmth, Itachi pulling away from the hug before he can be pushed away by force. 

Blinks, the confused tilt of a head, "Right.. I'll be off, I'm really sorry." Sasuke grabs his bag with an internal sigh, successfully pushing the tingly feeling to the back of his head. They're blood brothers, by flesh and bones and DNA. They've shared memories together since when Sasuke was first born—Itachi practically _raised_ him. The feelings are wrong.

And as Itachi watches his brother grab his bag and head upstairs, he can't help but wonder one thing while getting ready for work, one thing that nags at the bottom of his stomach, starting at the forefront of his mind without consent; something that he wonders about, even more than as to why Sasuke is acting so unusual.

What's the reason behind the tingling at his fingertips?


	10. Prerequisite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Prerequisite": (n.) a thing that is required as a prior condition for something else to happen or exist.

**Another** night, another opportunity.

Itachi steps out of the house without bidding his brother farewell, thinking and knowing that the teenager doesn't really want to see more of him for the rest of the night. It's rather lonely—as he leaves Sasuke in the house's hands—but he doesn't dwell on it for too long.

The drive is normal. Sights that he's seen a million and one times are all mere backgrounds in this creation of his life; the neon pink and blue signs, streetlights flashing green, yellow and red. Even the reflective speed limits in dark blue, all of it has been dipped into black and white ink, blurred to further display the main focus of this artwork.

The only problem is that, Itachi isn't sure what the main focus _is_. His eyes have grown blind to his own narrative.

Strip clubs have become his least favorite and most annoying place yet still he arrives just like every other night, not a single second early or late. Even sound seems to be slurred and mixed together without coherent understanding as his mind effectively blocks it all out. All that matters is that he finishes his work and goes home. He needs to make sure that he _always_ gets home.

Back to Sasuke.

With the brick wall revealed, there stands the man. It's always him, tall, pale and unafraid of anything. The thought of his face twisting up in fear is nearly as ridiculous as imagining a wolf afraid of sheep. No.. It's very well known that everyone is a player in the palm of his hand, dancing and toiling without the ability to break free—including Itachi himself. There is only one meant to oppose him, a shepard meant to keep their flock out of harm's way.

But the shepard has gone and now his sheep are mere pawns.

_"Are you ready to begin?"_

Voice deep, confident, and all too powerful. Itachi has never known a voice that could force his body to carry out missions in such a way, to leave nerves tingling in a fright that even bones stop quivering in hopes to not upset a single soul. The Akatsuki has taught him many things.

One, to remain quiet in a form of obedience. So he says nothing.

_"Good. Your partner today will be Deidara."_

Two, never question the leader's judgement.

_"Here is the contract. Get it done tonight."_

Three, throw away all of your own moral judgement for the sake of the mission.

_"...Yes, Leader-sama."_

Four, address superiors with respect.

From somewhere in the crowd steps out a tall man, slightly taller than Itachi. His figure is slim, nearly feminine, with a delicately pointed chin and eyes as clear as the blue sky. Blond hair, long and thick like a woman's, is pulled back into a ponytail mimicking his own, yet not quite.

"You two are dismissed."

Five, never turn your back before allowed to.

"Yes, Leader-sama, hm!" the blond man says, tone unusually deep yet attractive to both men and women alike. The two of them take a back exit, a fire door that of course doesn't work. Is it really a surprise in a place like this?

Their journey doesn't last long. Neither of them would be able to stand the irritation of each other's presence for abnormal lengths of time. Deidara is a wild spirit, reckless at times, but his work is effective. Everything about him screams trouble and the Uchiha guarantees that if he wasn't in the Akatsuki, he'd be less careful about getting caught. 

Itachi is everything Deidara hates. From his ever-polite tone to the blank expression worn during work, his presence will never be satisfying. Even his long inky hair pisses him off to the point where he sometimes wants to rip it off his head and burn it from existence.

They step out of the inconspicuous car, regular with matte black paint and the tinted windows of a celebrity, before gathering their things. There's still a distance left to go by foot but it's barely a scratch to the entire ordeal.

Each footstep is light, making even the street itself unaware of their presence like the 'trained soldiers' they are. They duck into the shadows of buildings, cars, and bushes, easily blending in despite the absurd golden color of Deidara's locks and the red clouds of their cloaks.

Everything goes smoothly. They make it to an expensive-looking house that's fenced in away from the street. Each metal beam sticking out of the ground holds a two way spike meant to keep people out—even alongside its neighbors. There are lights shining down to the yard, bright enough to cast distinct shadows.

The both of them ignore this. 

They shimmey over through a neighboring yard, making sure that they're careful to not to set off any alarms or leave behind fingerprints as they pull on tight-fitting gloves and only stepping through pavement. It's practically second nature by this point, something they do without having to second-guess or think.

After all, it doesn't matter if they want to light each other on fire. They still work in the Akatsuki, and failing a mission _isn't_ an option.

Deidara's skills come in handy when it comes to busting through places in a hurry, which is what's going to be needed in such an expensive place like this one. They're in without the hint of a struggle, no questions asked because as long as it gets the job done, it works. 

In they go, both holding their agile bodies to scale up indents and creases in the bricks, still keeping in disguise through great shadows casted by the front lights (each window is avoided, lest be caught by someone inside). Up to the second floor, over to the right by three rooms—a wall with a single-paned window. Once again, it's Deidara who breaks in at this point, _no questions asked._

Only one goes on, only one is really needed. And that's Itachi.

The most challenging part of their mission is over—invading without detection. Now comes the second hardest, although simplest part. Worming his way in through the glass, the Uchiha works magic as his feet land soundlessly against the wood floor. And then he's in action, practically floating across the ground as he makes his way through and through, checking all the bookshelves and cabinets with deft hands.

Then, he finds it and lifts his first desired item from a stack of them, an important-looking file in a conspicuous manilla folder. With the material easily slipped into his cloak, he continues and pulls out a tool used to clip right through a steel lock. And there it is, a glimmering gemstone polished to a glittering perfection, placed in the protection of a miniature pillow and hawk feathers.

Quite marvelous, but not catching to the Uchiha's eye.

Still, he reaches forward and drags an index finger over it's surface, gliding over the smooth sides and then to the sharp top protruding up. A reflection can be seen despite how dark it truly is, the reflection of an emotionless robot following out a set of given prompts and demands. Lifeless, flesh of steel and bolted bones constantly oiled at minimum. Tattered, torn, defeated in this victory for the Akatsuki.

Each mission wears down his soul.

Within the fractions of a second, he grasps the object, tucking it away with careful fingers and darting back out the window. Deidara is already gone, his part of the mission is complete and there's no reason to hang back where its most likely to get caught. There's no need to risk anything for the Uchiha.

Back to the area they burst through, cloaked and hidden under the protection of a night sky, back through the neighboring yard and yet further away. Undetected. Quiet. Agile. Quick. That is Itachi Uchiha of the Akatsuki...

Never has he ever been caught in the act of such disgraceful schemes working for a hideous organization. Never, and it isn't on a bucket list for his life either. That would mean being taken away from his brother; leaving his precious younger brother all alone...

"Got it? Good, un."

Their car is leapt into action and sped in a general direction for return, but this doesn't concern Itachi. Weary eyes glance out the window, gazing not at the scenery but his own image once again. Dead in the eyes, dead by soul, dead. Yet alive. Alive only for one reason, one person. Only alive to kneel by another's feet day by day, only alive to humiliate his pride in return for paper money. Only alive to keep another on a better path.

That one person rests at home still, locked behind a barren door with the faint glow of a computer flashing as it charges. With an uneven and mountainous terrain above his head, he faces to the wall instead. Smooth, untouched, boring. Stubborn in his way, he stays staring even as the _tick tick tick_ of the clock in the hallway drives him insane.

11:57.

Sasuke is never to see this, never to truly know this side of Itachi, forbidden from thinking less of him even further.

11:58.

He will find out what else is being hidden and he will get the truth. Sasuke will find who his brother truly is.

11:59.

The wall is bland, the clock is a nuisance. The car is going too fast to see a thing. His head is spinning, the world is spinning. His eyes close, blocking out the sound. Blocking out reality and passing out with exhaustion.

12:00.

Sleep is upon them.

_Itachi doesn't return that night._


	11. Incognizant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Incognizant": (adj.) lacking knowledge or awareness.

**Everything**  becomes more uneventful than usual.

The house is cold with a creak of failing heaters and Sasuke has to wait for the shower to warm up since Itachi never returned home to use it. Breakfast is skipped and ignored, plans to stare at yet another abandoned chair are not in schedule.

Nothing has changed aside from a dreadful morning at home, and the pushing away of anxiety from not having his brother return yet; everything sails smoothly. Naruto's chatter makes his ears drop and burn off but that's also normal and he's becoming accustomed to blocking him out.

It isn't until they're heading off to work together that he realizes how human the blond actually is. Compared to his brother, Naruto Uzumaki is an absolute disgrace. He isn't an untouched, pure gem hidden underneath a pile of coal, but something else entirely... A burning fire, flames flickering out and enveloping in a suffocating heat that demands attention. Demands to be seen, to be heard, to be _recognized_.

"Ne, teme, we should go for ramen after!" 

...Or perhaps that's overthinking it after all.

"No," the Uchiha says flatly, sending the man an unamused glance whilst fixing the half-apron wrapped around his waist. Naruto doesn't seem discouraged, grinning brightly and picking up one of the large round trays. 

"Fine, fine! Maa, you're no fun," he teases, not that Sasuke cares, "Get to work then, would you?"

"Shut up, I am."

Once their shift is over, Naruto doesn't allow his 'friend' to escape like last time. Today, he grabs Sasuke by the wrist and drags him out after they're rid of their café uniforms, shoving him into the passenger seat of a an ancient car. The raven lets out a hiss as his elbow hits the dash and his backpack digs into his skin, but results to a nasty glare as the door is slammed a mere inch away from his face.

"Are you finally confessing your undying love to me?" is questioned dryly, Sasuke crossing his arms. Naruto only blinks while seating himself comfortably, and then grins.

"You wish, teme. I'm taking you home, it gets too cold in the evenings at this time of year."

The Uchiha would have complained and denied such a thing, if it weren't for the fact that the car is warm and inviting. It's almost as if the scorching fire in Naruto's eyes have solidified and transferred to the air for his own comfort.

"Tch. Whatever."

With that, they start the drive in an odd but easy silence, one nearly dozing off and the other watching the road in content.

 

* * *

 

_Everything aches._

Black and white hues have changed to dim colors, air filled with the scent of spice and moisture. Itachi is quiet as he works, tilting the kettle to pour streaming, _scorching_ tea into two cups with blue trims.

His body hurts.

Everything in the house has gone silent in respect once again, and it gives the man a sense of relief. It means he can hear everything. It means he knows what's to come next.

The kettle is placed back with a _clink_ , tea bags stirred to stain the clear waters a golden brown. He afterwards cups the porcelain between his palms, closing his eyes with that only warmth at hand. Perhaps he should call someone in about the heaters, they crank and turn and still it's as cold as the chilly air outside.

It _hurts_.

But it's okay.

"I'm home," Sasuke calls from the front, rubbing an eye to pull away the sleepiness from his face. It doesn't work, and only blotches his skin red for a moment before fading back. The older Uchiha opens his eyes, taking ahold of both cups and making his way over to place them neatly on the coffee table. As he straightens out, he adjusts the sleeves of a maroon sweater and usual ponytail.

"Welcome home."

Sasuke pauses for a moment, briefly looking his brother over. Something is off about him, yet nothing is. He's still just slightly taller with angular features to his face, a straight nose and almond onyx eyes. High cheek bones, defined jawline... A beautiful curve to his smile, a smile that's displayed for him and only him.

"Hn..."

Nothing is out of place?

"How was work? Are you getting along with your coworkers?" Itachi asks lightly, taking a sip and ignoring the painful temperature against his tastebuds. On the outside, there's nothing but calm and it eases his younger brother to sit across from him on the ground at the table.

"Fine. The customers give a lot of tips," not a surprise, "and I guess the people are tolerable."

"I'm glad."

The air goes quiet again as the two of them go on with their drinks, unbroken until Sasuke gives a sudden sputter and wheeze. He wipes at his mouth and snaps his head back toward the door, staring for a long moment before whispering a curse and falling forwards, allowing his forehead to smack against the table. Itachi jolts at this, worried, "Otouto, what's wrong?"

Without lifting his head, out of despair and disappointment in himself, the younger Uchiha mutters, "I forgot my backpack in Naruto's car."

Itachi blinks, looking down to his brother. He had forgotten that the blond works with him. Now it's his turn to give a stare, fingers tightening against the warmth and the muscles in his face going slack for a half second, "Ah, did you have homework?" 

Of _course_ Itachi would be worried about that.

Slowly, Sasuke lifts his face from the wooden surface, sporting a red spot right in the middle of his forehead. It stands out against the pale complexion of his skin. "It's fine, I already did half of it in class," he decides begrudgingly, picking up his drink once again and placing the blue trim to his lips. Then as if getting another realization, he pulls it away and slams it down, making his brother jump again in surprise.

"Where were you last night?" he questions, eyes narrowed and finger pointed at the man. It makes him feel rather childish, but this is serious, "You weren't here in the morning... It's irresponsible."

Silence, more silence, more staring, and its driving them both insane. 

"I'm sorry," are the first things that leave the older Uchiha's lips, soft and genuine, "I didn't want to, but work...held me up for a while longer. I'll try not to allow that to happen again."

"But what was so important that you stayed up for twenty-four hours?"

"I—"

 **Knock knock** _._

The two are alert at this foreign sound; _nobody_ comes to visit anymore. Their mailman just comes and goes, nobody orders takeout, classmates are too intimidated to even try. Even Uncle Obito hasn't come back to check up on them, he has too many memories here as well.

Itachi places his things down and stands up straight, going over to open the door. Naruto stands there with an embarrased smile, a backpack clutched in his hands. "Ah, I'm sorry that its late, but I saw Sasu-teme left this in my car," he laughs, rubbing his head. The older Uchiha takes it wordlessly, giving a small smile as he hands it over to his brother.

"Thank you for returning it," a pause, "Naruto?"

"That's right," the blond laughs in the most carefree way he can manage. To Sasuke this is normal, and he carries his bag back to the coffee table whilst pretending that he isn't listening. When the voices lower, he really can't make out a word between them, but by the time he places the damned thing down and turns around, it's too late.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," his brother gives another smile, gripping the door tightly. Naruto gives a bashful one in return, scratching the back of his head with one hand and waving with the other.

"Ah, no worries! Just wanted to make sure Sasu-teme didn't fall behind!" A slight glimmer in the eye, gone too quickly to notice as he peers through the doorway to Sasuke's blank expression, "See you tomorrow, teme. Goodnight, Itachi."

Sasuke missed the fact that Itachi didn't introduce himself.

Then he's off, disappearing into the bright car and driving away once again. A pair of tired, onyx eyes continue to stare out into the night until the twin headlights and bloody rear fades away into shadows. Once they are, Itachi closes the door and returns to where Sasuke is now working on his assignments.

Sasuke stays oblivious to the tense exchange. Oblivious to the smirk lifted at the corners of his classmate's lips, the unusually pointed canines and confident gaze. The breaking down of an Uchiha's walls to weakness.

"Otouto, I have a question."

"Hn?"

Itachi sits back at his previous seat, picking up his abandoned drink and taking a long sip to finish it off. Lukewarm tea, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as the sugar has collected at the bottom.

"Would you still like to do something tomorrow?"

Ah, right, Sasuke thinks, twirling a pencil between deft fingers, "Yeah. I wouldn't change my mind after being asked the first time."

"I'm just checking," he chuckles in return, looking up to the ceiling. Flat, perfectly boring and devoid of color.

"But... promise me you'll come home tonight," Sasuke demands after a half second, slamming his fist down on the table. It makes the wood shake and cups quake in fear for the third time. As if embarrassed, he takes his fist back and relaxes it, "I don't care what those Akatsuki bastards want but they already make you so _tired_ , niisan. And you always leave the shower warm when I wake up. It was _freezing_ this morning. So come home!"

A shocked silence follows soon after. And then, a snort, then full on laughter. Ah, his brother can be so cute. Sasuke doesn't seem to find this funny and only grows more furious, cheeks heating up in the moment.

"I'm serious!"

"I-I know you are, otouto..."

"Then why are you still laughing? It isn't funny, idiot!"

"Aha... Alright, alright. Don't worry, Sasuke, I'll always return," the raven promises, giving a lazy salute to mock the man. This leads Sasuke to collect his things and threaten to storm upstairs, leaving his brother to stifle his laughter and apologize once again.

The heavy blush stained on his cheeks and the hard thumping against his heart do not fade as easily.

And as Itachi sits downstairs, recovering from his fit, he begins cleaning up their things with one thing in mind:

He needs to get through this and he needs to be the best that he can be for Sasuke. No matter what happens, or who pulls him down—because when he looks at Sasuke, he sees color, and he sees flawed perfection; he sees the contours of art.

"You can leave now, you know," Sasuke yawns, stealing a place on the couch instead to resume where he left off. Itachi just hums and nods.

"Goodnight, Sasuke. Don't fall asleep down here," the man flicks his forehead as he passes by, making the younger raven frown and rub at the sore spot.

And then he's gone.


	12. Momentous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • "Momentous": (adj.) of great importance or significance, especially in its bearing on the future.

**Sasuke** doesn't remember the last time he's felt this excited before.

Throughout the day, he acts in such a way that if it were for any other occasion he'd punch himself in the face and force himself to calm down. He seems much too happy, and the many girls he passes believe they're the reason for his sudden change in behavior. Even Naruto—the most oblivious and dumbest person on school grounds—is surprised with his friend and promptly leaves after finding that the small smile at his lips does nothing but send weirded-out shivers down his spine.

It's been much too long since he's properly spent time with his older brother. When they were kids and their parents went to work with Uchiha Corps., Itachi always took care of him. Back then, there was always plenty of time to goof around and have loads of fun. But of course after everything, it simply isn't possible anymore, which is the reason why he's so excited now.

By the end of the day, his self-proclaimed friend is the one who finally has to say something. It's really unnerving to see Sasuke in a not-emo mood, and he isn't sure that he'll be able to handle it for another few hours at work.

Exiting together as usual, Naruto keeps up with the raven and examines his expression again. Then, slowly, he raises his voice, "Teme! Stop smiling so much, it's weird!"

"Tch, you're weird, dobe. Stop yelling so much, you're disturbing people."

"You're disturbing _me!_ " Sasuke ignores him. The Uzumaki huffs and pouts slightly, looking off to the side as they stop to wait for the traffic light to go red. This is the quickest route to the café, which is extremely convenient for each of them. Once it does and the crossing light flashes white, they're off to earn some cash.

Their shift isn't long and while returning home, the Uchiha completely forgets that Naruto exists; he rushes home without sparing a second. His grasp on the backpack is tight as he hurries up the cracked and uneven pavement, and he only realizes now that he's much too excited. He'll need to fix that, Itachi will tease him if he sees. Standing straight at the doorway, Sasuke rubs at his face to ease his features back into an emotionless expression, a usual expression. And only once he knows it won't change easily, he opens the door to step in.

Even now, Itachi has the regular two cups of tea sitting right at the coffee table in wait. The room is lit warmly and for once the heaters are excelling at doing their job. He drops his bag on the floor and makes his way over, holding back a blush as he remembers this morning; the way he had woken up in the exact spot he had dozed off on. Their couch had been much too comfortable, and his bed had been way too far. Perhaps he should have taken in the extra effort, because when he awoke in the morning, it was to Itachi's angelic features.

Itachi carried him to bed and stayed with him.

But now isn't the time for that.

"Welcome home," the eldest greets, giving him a warm smile and nudging the tea forwards, "We'll be leaving soon."

"Alright," Sasuke seems to nod, dropping his bag down in its nestled home and padding over to sit on the floor across from him. There's not a single tremble to deceive a hint of nervousness, fingers absolutely flawless as they grasp the slim handle of the cup to bring to his lips.

Serene silence between them is warm and comforting. They're comfortable around each other as always, with an added spark from the anticipation of what's to come. They haven't gone out together in a long while, and its quite obvious that they're each doing their hardest not to give away extra emotions. 

Because they're Uchiha. 

When the both of them are finished with their tea they place it down simultaneously, a matching _clink_ making them each look up in shock. Sasuke throws himself onto his feet, announcing, "I'm going to get changed!" before disappearing upstairs. His brother doesn't respond and just stands, scooping up the emptied porcelain to wash.

They each take exactly five minutes to meet up back at the front of the house. Sasuke has decided to go with the same attire as Itachi, casual and comfortable with a nice pair of slim jeans and comfortable sweater in black—complementary to his brother's maroon one. The older grabs his keys and steps out with the younger following eagerly behind, like a puppy about to go on a walk to the park.

But maybe it's best to keep that thought to himself. Itachi laughs mentally, clipping his seatbelt in place after getting into the car. Perhaps it'll hurt his Uchiha pride a little too much.

"So, where are we going?" Speak of the devil.

"It's a surprise," Itachi replies with an ominous look, eyes shining despite their dark shade. It's always amazed him how full of expression his brother can become even though he's constantly been plagued by stress and misfortune. The trenches of bags beneath his eyes express a tremendous amount of hardship. But if you look closely enough, there's a constant fire burning within him.

"You know I don't like surprises," Sasuke coughs and looks away, out a window to distract himself. There's the smallest of pouts on his lips for he's almost never been denied by his older brother. However, Itachi doesn't seem to be budging anytime soon.

"That's too bad, looks like you'll have to bear some patience."

Keeping his eyes on the road, Itachi can practically _sense_ the pout deepening on Sasuke's expression. How adorable, it reminds him of their childhood times. Whenever mother refused to let him help her cook he would pout and frown until at last he was allowed to wash his favorite fruit: tomatoes. He's always been a spoiled child and has always gotten what he wanted in an all Uchiha-righteousness; even if he doesn't realize it. What's worse is that Itachi is no less guilty to this, as long as his baby brother is happy then he's happy.

"Just tell me."

"I won't."

"... Can you pleaaase? With a cherry on top."

"Nope."

The younger raven is left sulking for the rest of the drive, but the empty air is as relaxed as ever. Each view passes by in a saturated blur—seeming to light up as they near their destination—and after a few more moments, Sasuke's onyx eyes are drawn to a sky of blinking lights. His pupils dialate in shock, and he reaches to grip the other man's arm tightly.

"Oh my god! No way. Oh my god," is exclaimed from those awe-parted lips, eyes still staring at the immense structure of a Ferris Wheel. They immediately drift down to yet more attractions of brilliant colors everywhere, neon wonders making him feel like a child all over again. And this is only what he can see from here, "This is amazing Itachi. Thank you."

Parking the car, his older brother smiles kindly—that kind smile that has become branded by his name by now. "Anything for you. Let's go."

Each of them step out and make their way to the line awaiting them into the amusement park but Sasuke makes a point of holding onto his arm so that they don't get separated in the crowd. As they wait, and the sun shifts ever so slightly, he can't help but admire the man beside him. Why had he been so angry at his beloved older brother..? So _angry_ that he screamed at him and threw a fit much like an ungrateful brat. And even after all that, Itachi still takes him out like this...

He feels ashamed.

Itachi is probably the kindest person Sasuke's ever met. The most down to earth, and not to mention, calmest. Not once has he snapped at him for any reason, and he doesn't believe that he ever will, even to his death.

At last, they reach the front of the line, and it isn't until the ticket lady smiles at them and stamps their hands that the younger Uchiha realizes something. He recognizes the smile she gave them; those eyes filled with giddy, mischievous thoughts. It's too late, as Itachi grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, and no longer can Sasuke ignore the burn of red at his cheeks.

"It's easy to get lost," his brother explains smoothly, "Where do you want to go first?"

"Y.. You can choose," Sasuke responds, mentally cursing himself for the unusual nervousness kicking in. He glances at their hands, each stamped with a purple ink and decides that its only because of this new environment that his feelings are so out of the loop. Though—eyes following up their arms and to Itachi's face again—he deems that he does look hot today. Well, he always does, but the way each colored light hits off his complexion in complementary shades enhances everything, "I don't mind anything. This is the first time I've been to one of these, so I don't know..."

There's a pause, short and sweet for thoughts to crank and whir inside his head like the heaters of their home. Then he smiles and gently tugs them off in a direction. Sasuke could almost swear that they're following a set of lights at random, but that would be idiotic because the entire place holds light. His niisan isn't oblivious either.

"What about bumper cars?"

"Yeah, sure."

Sasuke gives his hand a light squeeze to show that he's completely okay with the suggestion, easily following him at his side. His eyes continue to wander as they pass by other rides and groups of people, but he notices that there are a lot of couples holding hands and leaning in close to each other. Looking down to their own intertwined hands, Sasuke leans in a bit closer as well, wondering; do they look like the others?

Everything after that goes in a carefree manner, traveling back and forth between different rides in pure exhilaration. Each of them completely let go of the outside world; Naruto ceases to exist, the annoyance of fangirls and boredom of classes dissipate entirely. The Akatsuki brings not a single train of thought to Itachi for a mindblowing amount of time that seemed impossible beforehand.

On their way to the nth ride, Sasuke suddenly tugs their hands and halts them to a complete stop. He finds his breath catching in his throat as he stands before the masterpiece before him, his older brother turns to give him a questioning look, "What is it, otouto? Are you tired?" 

"No," he says suddenly, capturing the sight to store in the recesses of his mind. The sun has traveled across the air and makes the sky bleed in a rainbow of natural colors. Itachi's skin is practically a mirror, or an empty canvas, taking in all these colors in an unimaginable sort of way. And as his eyes shift past him, Sasuke decides where this would look yet more celestial, "Let's go there."

The elder's gaze follows Sasuke's, humming in response as they resume walking. "Let's, then."

Their wait in line is long and discourages the Uchihas for only a moment but they stay with utmost patience anyway. When they're allowed through for admission at last, Sasuke fears that he's missed his chance, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt until that firm, comforting hand squeezes his lightly. And suddenly, he's feeling more confident.

They climb up onto the Ferris Wheel platform together, any stares or whispers of the two gorgeous men falling in deaf ears. Today— _tonight_ —the world exists only for them. Handing over the last of their tickets, the both of them seat them selves in a glass box, it's material thick but clear enough to see through to their surroundings. The rail is cold and unnerving as the box begins to lift off into the sky, but Itachi is there to keep him grounded.

Above, stars twinkle in only a portion of their beauty as the darkness begins to overwhelm the sky with its silent grace. The walls of their cube are nothing in their mind's eye and suddenly they're floating up into the air together. There are no boundaries, no smooth or rocky ceiling floating above, nothing to keep them enclosed from anything; it's something they hadn't thought of or experienced before.

Sasuke, in his enchanted state, is completely overridden with awe until his gaze shifts from the glass of the stars to the ground below him, going rigid with realization. Not very keen on heights, the younger raven finds himself growing uncomfortable until the hand that once held his shifts to wrap around his shoulders and pull him into a warm side. _Of course Itachi knows_ , he reassures himself in an attempt to push down that awful nervous feeling, _Itachi knows a lot_.

"Don't be scared, otouto... Look up, the view is beautiful."

Still in a trance, the younger Uchiha does as he's told except his eyes fix themselves on something much more stunning than whatever the sun or moon can ever manage to display across the world. His older brother—his niisan— pale and wearing the rough years of his life in the form of trenches plastered upon his face yet flawless nonetheless. Everything about him is spectacular and all at once Sasuke becomes frustrated that all he will ever have is this view.

A painting is precisely what the beauty in front of him is. Untouchable, yet impacting his life on a miraculous and almost ridiculous level.

However, he's always been one to over exaggerate his own admiration.

"Or look at me... That works, too."

Sasuke's response to getting caught is an immediate and heavy blush brushed upon his cheeks, brows furrowing lightly so that his onyx eyes narrow just a bit. The laugh that echoes inside their cube holds a wonderful pitch to it and after a moment, the younger Uchiha really can't help but feel embarrassed. Now Itachi is looking at him, deep coal eyes staring. Just staring, and staring, and— is it him? Is there something on his face? Has he upset the man by keeping too close, by allowing his eyes to linger for too long?

"Is... something wrong?" he asks slowly, to which Itachi shakes his head no.

"I'm glad that you have been enjoying yourself, otouto," the question is entirely dismissed, replaced by a soft and delighted tone. Itachi reaches up quietly, shifting so that his hand is rested at the back of Sasuke's wild locks and their faces are toward each other, "I truly hope we have more moments like these."

Through and through, Sasuke doesn't believe his older brother will ever run out of things to make his heart feel a little out of place in his chest. His lips open just barely as he goes to respond with something—anything—but the depths of his mind fails him. He's at a loss for words. Itachi is just so _genuine_. How is he supposed to respond to that?

It isn't until he feels warmth pressed against his lips that he realizes exactly what he needs to say, and that's nothing.

Together, the two siblings have never felt the need to use words to keep peace. If anything, words do nothing but hurt with their paper-thin transparency.

Sasuke responds to the warmth and the closeness by seeking more of it, pressing closer to the older man and gripping the front of his shirt in yet another attempt to keep himself grounded, to keep himself in this reality. Yet, he's left in a dazed mess by the wonder that is Itachi Uchiha.

To the outside world, it's a little odd, (if not a lot). Such an act is taboo, forbidden amongst the many, _many_ righteous morals put up by man, day by day. How old fashioned, how horrendous, how disgusting. An audience would itch to rip at their hair in wonders as to why siblings would ever commit such an act.

Itachi Uchiha knows his precious otouto like the back of his hand. As the years pass and his toil in the chambers of the Akatsuki continue, one thing has remained to hold him through the storm. Sasuke. His one and only purpose, the reason he's level-headed, the reason why he works so _hard_.

The real question has flipped, flipped like the tides of journey they've been traveling on together...

Why _wouldn't_ they be there for each other the most?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!


	13. Penumbra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> • Penumbra: (n.) the partially shaded outer region of the shadow cast by an opaque object.

**The** world of dreams is unrestricted, consisting of a cloud of freedom in unconscious self expression and a flow of hidden desires.

Sasuke Uchiha doesn't dream much—or at least, he doesn't remember most of his dreams—but the one he had last night was pleasant. For once, he wakes up from pure satisfaction alone and not because he has to, deeming the sun hasn't even risen yet. Both of his eyes open slowly in unison, blinking groggily as he recovers from his oddly comfortable position. The world feels okay, and for the moment, he accepts it is.

Until he feels a strong arm wrapped around his waist, and a warm body pressed against his back.

Sasuke Uchiha, for the first time, almost screams. _Almost_.

A thousand different solutions rise to his mind, and he prepares himself to make an epic escape; whoever's arm that is, it's going to kidnap him if he doesn't do anything soon. Just when he's about ready to take action, the person holding him shifts, and Sasuke freezes in pure terror.

"Mm.. Otouto, are you already awake? There's still some hours until its time to get up," Itachi murmurs, sleepy and still tired. Last night had been one of the only nights he's ever had off since he first joined the Akatsuki. After their parent's deaths, he hasnt gotten a single moment of rest. Catching up on the sleep he hasn't gotten is a relief to him, especially here with his favorite person of all.

Usually, Sasuke would respect the position, because he completely understands that his older brother works hard for the both of them. But something like this has never happened before. Why is Itachi in bed with him...? The older man seems to sense this, a light and amused grin spreading lazily across his lips despite his half-asleep state. For some reason, he's never fazed by any situation, and his amusement is always clear when he's around Sasuke.

"Do you remember our trip?"

Ah. No, he does. Quite clearly, actually. But he doesn't see his point. "What are you—"

In an instant, like the snap of his fingers, his mind grips and toils at the memories of last night. It shuts him up effectively and leaves him feeling tingly again just thinking about it, cheeks warming up as he suddenly remembers how close they are right now. Instead of backing off like any sensible person would do, Itachi only uses this as an even better reason to tighten his grip around his brother, kissing his cheek sweetly as he settles against him once again. "Go back to sleep, Sasuke."

"I'm not sure if I can anymore."

But Itachi is relentless, pulling and tugging against his strong will, and at last Sasuke finds himself giving way to the persuasion. He settles back next to his brother, no longer attempting to keep a distance between them, and the older man gives a satisfied hum as he presses them together in a show of affection. This is something Itachi has always had control over, or complete awareness of at least. Unlike Sasuke's stunted ability with emotions, Itachi excels in them. He holds a mastery over them, tamed and calmed and obedient to his every bend. Nothing leaves his reign of control.

It doesn't matter how angry or passive he's feeling, because he can present himself in any way he wants, and still fool anyone.

They stay like that for a little while longer, gradually drifting back to sleep without a hitch, and it isnt until the sky turns brighter that Sasuke awakens again, this time alone. He pales, afraid that perhaps everything actually _had_ been a dream, one that he'll have to erase from his memory so that he doesn't end up avoiding Itachi like the plague.

Despite the assault of sunlight, there's still time to get ready for the long day ahead. Without delay, the Uchiha opens up his door, determined to shake off these unnecessary emotions and get on with his day. The alarm at his bedside chatters after him, ticking and ticking, like a timebomb ready to explode, but it does little to deter the goal in his mind. A nice rinse in the shower will do him good and clear his head, he decides, ignoring the alarm's calls as he leaves.

Only for him to run straight into a damp Itachi.

The older raven has nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, beads of water rolling down thin and elegantly pale shoulders. Even in the harsh beams of artificial lighting silhouetting his structure, Itachi still looks _excellent._  Sasuke has to keep himself from looking down south, feigning annoyance as his gaze drifts back up to the ragged ceiling. It laughs back at him, entertained by his pleasant misfortune.

"Otouto, you're finally awake," the older man muses, fully grabbing his attention again. His tone is deep, as it always is in the morning, and he restrains a shiver from running down his spine. This isn't fair. His brother is never fair.

"Yeah, thanks for the help. Now get some clothes on before I lose control and pounce on you," Sasuke snaps, glaring at him lightly, because he'll be damned if he lets him win like this. Itachi only smirks, like he's hiding his laughter, before moving past him to slip back into his room.

Without words, Sasuke can still hear the mockery in his brother's expression as he passes, and it brings further annoyance to his system... as well as a flicker of playfulness; Something he and his brother haven't really shared as often as they used to, or at least, not like this. This is something else entirely.

It doesn't take long to wash up, the warmth of the water soothing for his jittery nerves. He hates what Itachi does to him, despises him for it, but it also makes him want him even more. It fuels his hidden desires, the very same ones he'd tried to keep hidden, and the unraveling is all Itachi's fault. It's all his doing, but he has no desire to stop it, either.

As if time finally caught up to them, their morning goes back to the usual, and everything runs like a well-oiled clock. They go through their routine like a breeze, and when he's all cleaned up, Sasuke even travels downstairs to get breakfast cooked and ready all by himself. So, when Itachi never appears at his side, he knows... it was too good to be true. Their moment of euphoria has faded.

"Itachi?" he calls out, keeping the tone of his voice uninterested when in reality his heart is aching with the thought that something could be wrong. Maybe they accidentally threw the globe off balance, and it's finally bouncing back to reality, shaking free from the remnants of his desires. Maybe that would be the last instance where they'd be truly happy, the last time they'd have absolutely no worries to hold them back.

When he doesn't find Itachi upstairs, Sasuke realizes that unfortunately, he's right.

 

* * *

 

The trip back is the same as always, mundane with unsaturated colors dying his vision like poison. It feels like the happiness and pure joy he dug back up from his heart is bring snatched away once again—forcibly removed—because a soldier like him shouldn't believe in such a thing. There's only room for obedience and loyalty, and that's something he too has no say in.

He gave that away a long time ago.

The building looks much older than it does at night, no longer basked in the mysterious darkness it hides behind, and it makes Itachi's stomach twist. There's nothing left to hide behind, nothing to protect him from the crimes he's taken a part of since the deaths of his parents. It all lies naked and exposed under the rays of the knowing sun, and it burns him mentally as he steps out of his car.

It's frustrating, infuriating actually, being kept at the end of a shortened leash. All his life, he hasn't complained. He'd kept his head down and bowed, a tamed dog, all for Sasuke's sake. It's all for him, to keep him safe, and to make sure he has a better future. He's given him everything and anything he's ever wanted, and has provided him with the life he himself left behind.

But now that Sasuke wants _him_ , it makes everything all the more complicated.

There isn't anyone partying around at this time of the day, and the stages topped with shiny poles and counters filled to the brim with booze lay strangely vacant. He moves further inside to escape the scorching sun, taking a sudden gratitude in the coolness of the building, before catching sight of bright blond hair.

Well then, perhaps not _entirely_ vacant.

Deidara stays leaning up against one of the counters, sprawled over the smooth surface of polished wood. His features are breathless—cheeks flushed and eyes slightly out of focus—and Itachi is quick to turn away and continue walking. It isn't the first time he's caught the man in such an act, exhibitionism appears to be one of Deidara's delights, but he himself holds no interest in staying around to watch. Not after that one time he made the mistake of peeking behind the counter... no, never again. The sight has been burned into his mind and he doesn't need to be further traumatized.

Finding his way towards the back, he finds that the brick wall is open up without a care, and he steps through into the dark corridor. He's traveled down this way so many times without an issue, allowing his mind to stay numb and block out what he's really doing, but now he's not so sure he'll be able to do that. Not when he knows why he'd been summoned, the reason is clear.

He knows what awaits him.

Standing at the end of the hallway is the tall and powerful man, vibrant eyes piercing through him without giving away a single thought. Then, Pein turns away, disappearing into a nearby room soundlessly. Itachi stares after his leader before wisely following without question, fingertips brushing against the weathered surface of the split-wood doorframe, finding it rough beneath his fingertips as he slips by. The door is closed behind him, echoing to hide the other whispers somewhere in other rooms, to hide the soft panting and moans of Deidara down the hall. The echo screams of silence, and it leaves Itachi to face responsibility on his own.

All on his own, just as he bears all the burdens of his family plainly across his shoulders. Alone, like how he stands in this world, distanced by the cruel fate of his decisions and his reasons to live. His reason, his light, the only reason why he's able to keep himself from trembling as he's forced down on his knees. The only reason why he doesn't flinch as his shirt is removed, leaving the cleanly pale skin of his exposed to his own darkness.

Sasuke is the only reason why he can manage to keep a firm grasp on his voice as the whip flies down over his back, the only reason why the pain doesn't hurt as much as it should. This is something much stronger than his Uchiha pride, much stronger than himself.

For Sasuke, he will be the best that he can be, even if he appears the complete opposite. Even if he has to turn to a shadow and give in to sacrifice himself. For his otouto, he will do anything to ensure that his life will flourish. Even if it leads to his end.

 

Sasuke spends the next day alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's not forget about Naruto...


End file.
